Predator: He Who Hunts The Hunter
by RuthlessNate
Summary: When a small Kansas town is threatened by a serial killer, a sheriff who just wanted relaxation from his old life steps up. But is the killer more than he expected? NOW FINISHED sorry for the long delay
1. Chapter I

Author's note: This chapter may wind up being revised so more detail can be added. And for those of you who have been reading Aliens vs. Predator vs. Metroid, this may slow down my work a tad, but maybe not. Sorry if it does, and I hope you enjoy.  
  
Predator: He Who Hunts The Hunter  
  
All Joe Tyler wanted was a simple life after leaving the Wichita police department. Sure, people think "Hey, it's Kansas. What's going to happen?" But just like any large city, it has its share of crime. And Joe witnessed a good deal of it. From simple robberies to the most gruesome murders, he decided it was too much. So when his parents died, he decided to pack up and take over the family farm. It was a quiet town, where his parents lived, and had little in the way of crime. There was about one or two drug busts a year, a lot of drunk drivers though. Most of those were just guys that lived right down the street from the local bar, and didn't tend to be a major threat. It was one of those towns where gossip spread fast and there was a police scanner in every bedroom in order to "be warned of emergencies". Downtown consisted of a block of rundown stores. There was no Wal-Mart; the closest one was about thirty-five miles away. The same went for McDonald's too. There was a Burger King and there was a Wal-Mart imitation store, but that was the closest things were. The town was small enough that there only needed to be one high school and one middle school and one elementary. Churches were everywhere. And about sixty percent of the population was over sixty-five. So, when the mayor asked Tyler to take over the sheriff's office, he didn't see the point in turning it down. It was a small enough town. There would never be the excitement that there was in Wichita. So, he took the job. And his life was barely anymore hectic than it was before the job was offered. Only at harvest did it get strenuous. But lately things had been different, a lot different.  
  
Chapter I  
  
It all started with a phone call.  
  
"Sheriff," said an old voice.  
  
"Yeah Pete? What is it?" asked Tyler.  
  
"I, ah, I found something when I was fishing. I think you better come down and see this," Pete replied.  
  
"Well, what is it?" inquired the sheriff.  
  
"Bones, Joe. Bones," Pete replied.  
  
Now Tyler's interest was peaked. "Where is it Pete?"  
  
"I was near the old Broughton Bridge. I'll drive up to the office and take you down."  
  
Tyler was in the driver's seat of the extended cab Dodge Ram with the town coroner, James Larry, and Pete Jacobson in the back with the sheriff's deputy, Carl Willis, in the passenger's seat. They turned onto a dirt road and went past a wheat field. They came up onto a thick line of cotton, oak, and maple trees and went past that to the part of the river that Pete had pointed out. The whole truck rocked and shook as they went over the bumpy gravel road and which turned into the bumpy dirt road, which turned into the muddy road that led to the riverbank. They all bailed out of the truck and followed Pete over to the point where his fishing poles had been standing.  
  
"Looks like Old Thumper got your poles, Pete," joked Willis. Old Thumper was the giant catfish of local legend. He gained the name because he would make a thumping noise on the top of the water before taking your hook and the pole with it.  
  
"Probably just a couple of punk teenagers," replied the old man. His long white hair hung to the shoulders of his red and black flannel shirt. Tyler and Willis had always joked about how much Pete looked like Willie Nelson. He continued on to lead the group on to where he had found the bones. "I was digging for some worms and I hit something hard," I pointed over to a large hole. Tyler and James made their way to the hole where the old man had been digging. There was obviously several bones lying around and jutting out of the ground. Tyler knew they weren't freshly dead, so he didn't figure he'd have a murder investigation on their hands. The coroner approached the bones and picked up one of them. He examined it and got a puzzled look on his face.  
  
"Well, these are definitely not fresh dead or anywhere near fresh dead," said Larry. He knelt down again and picked up a fragment of what looked like a jar. "Looks like we found a burial site," James said, "Better call up the archeology department over at Kansas State. We should find out what these guys belongs to." He paused, "There's something weird about these bones," said the coroner. His dark African face cringed and stared at what looked to be half a bone.  
  
"What's the matter with them James?" asked Deputy Willis.  
  
"Well, as you can probably see," he started, "Some of these bones are severed."  
  
"Yeah, what about it?" asked Tyler.  
  
"Well, the cuts," he paused, "They're so," another pause, "So clean," James said, "Way to clean a cut to be an animal or weapon."  
  
Tyler looked harder at the bones and saw that James was right. He had seen bones cut with modern surgical tools, and this seemed like it was even more precise. It was like something out of one of his son's science fiction movies. It looked as though someone had taken a laser and just hack it right off.  
  
"Well, I'm sure you can figure it out James," said Pete.  
  
* * *  
  
Tyler arrived at the scene the next day with James in the truck along with a Sac and Fox elder and the team from K-State following in a small caravan of cars and trucks behind them.  
  
They found they're way to the burial site and the team began looking around. The elder paced about the site and chanting some ritual blessing and Tyler had no idea what it was about. He figured there was some curse involved with digging up burial sites, so he guessed that the elder was just being safe.  
  
Over the day several skeletons were discovered. All of them were missing they're skulls and several of them had the same kind of cuts on their bones that the first one did. The team found a few other things around the site. Traditional items. Arrowheads, jars, and the like were all discovered. But one pot seemed to stump all of the researchers. One of them finally asked the elder about some inscriptions on it. Tyler saw a fearful reaction from the old man.  
  
"It has a warning on it," the old man began, "It says to be wary. The hunter demon from the skies may come. He claimed all these people, and by opening this site, he may come for you."  
* * *  
  
That night, Blake Cooper found the second dead cow in his stock. Both had been cut open with surgical quality. Several organs looked to have been removed from each without a trace of any left lying around. There was no blood either, which was very odd to him. He was no doctor, but the rancher knew that there probably wasn't anyway to remove organs without there being some blood.  
  
"Oh crap," started Cooper's wife, Mary. Her brown eyes had a cold look in them as if they wanted to tear something apart. He held her hand on her thick hip and scowled. "We loose another one?"  
  
Cooper nodded, "Yeah, call up the sheriff, there's no way any animal could have done this."  
  
* * *  
  
Tyler picked up the phone in his house. "Tyler residence," he began, "This is Joe."  
  
"Sheriff," started the voice of Mary Cooper, "We need you to come down here and take a look at something. And you might want to bring down Dr. Peterson."  
  
"All right, but what do you need the vet there for?" asked Tyler.  
  
"We've found a couple of our cattle dead, and we know there's no way an animal could have done it."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"I think you should just come down and see for yourself."  
  
* * *  
  
Tyler and the local vet, Dr. May Peterson, arrived at the Cooper ranch at about ten that night. Blake and Mary Cooper were both waiting on the front porch for them.  
  
"Thank you both for coming out here on such short notice," said Mary.  
  
"Follow me," started Blake, "I'll show you what's going on." All four trailed over to a nearby grazing field, where to carcasses were lying in the dirt. He pointed to the one on the right, "I found this one last night," he started and point to the other one, "And then this one tonight."  
  
May Peterson knelt down next to one of the cows and examined its wounds. Her delicate figure seemed to just float above the dead carcass and her blue eyes were affixed upon it. She gained an immediate puzzled face and her eyes widened. "What the hell?" she muttered.  
  
"What is it?" Tyler asked.  
  
"These incisions, I've never seen anything like it before," replied the veterinarian  
  
"Maybe it's the demon hunter from the skies," Tyler joked to himself. 


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II  
  
A Yautja always lurks around its prey. And sometimes it lurks around its food. This certain Yautja happened to have just had a meal. There was a quadruped species native to the planet that the Yautja found very appetizing. He had heard of the hearty taste of the beast from others who had hunted on this planet, and he was not disappointed. On the two beasts he had killed, he had eaten the liver, heart, as well as the lining of the stomach. He also sampled some of the muscle tissue on the inside of the beast. The Yautja was very careful not to spill blood. It was bad luck to make a feed animal bleed when killing it. He would be back to claim the rest of the remains, but for now he would let them dry, to improve upon the taste. But now the hunter sat on a far of treetop from where he had gotten his food. He used his helmet's visor to zoom in on four of the native bipeds. One of them was examining his meal. He watched as the female biped poked and prodded with various instruments. The Yautja decided he would go back tomorrow to retrieve the food. It was dark now, and even a hunter needed sleep after a thirty-hour space flight.  
  
* * *  
  
After a conversation with the Coopers and a promise to figure out what was going on, Tyler went home after he dropped May off at her house. It was about midnight when he finally arrived. He slowly, yet eagerly kicked off his shoes and got ready for bed. After such a long day, he needed the sleep.  
  
He flopped down on the bed next to his wife, Sandy. She unconsciously rolled toward him and draped her arm over his chest. Her brown hair draped all over her pillow and she slept with a half smile on her face. Her skin was dark, but not very dark. Her father was a full blood Cherokee, and that fact carried on into his daughter's chromosomes. She was fairly tall for a woman, at about five foot eleven inches. She still wasn't as tall as Tyler who was about six foot seven. That was one of the advantages he had in his line of work. People were intimidated by his size and tended to "talk" more easily to him.  
  
At nearly forty-seven though, he seemed less intimidating. Lines were showing more prominently on his face. His once thick, jet-black hair was now thinning and showing gray. His joints hurt every now and then too, and he didn't now like the idea of getting arthritis. But Tyler knew he was no longer the young policeman he used to be. One of the main reasons he left the force in Wichita because he knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with the new officers. He knew that if he worked very hard on figuring out who was killing the cattle that he would become very stressed. The wheat was almost turned. Which meant harvest would be very soon. And if there was a big case for him while harvest was going on, it meant problems. Sure, he could probably find some hired hands, but he never liked to do that. But then again, it wouldn't be too hard. There were a few little towns that wouldn't even have law enforcement if it weren't for his department. Small towns like Greene had to have most government services come in from somewhere else.  
  
Times like these made Tyler wonder why he decided to take the sheriff's job here.  
  
* * *  
  
Pete Jacobson sat on the riverbank, a different place than were he had been a couple days before. He had several fishing poles hanging out over the water. The Republican River was unusually high for a summer. At these months it tended to be pretty low. But Pete didn't care, as long as the fishing was good. He looked down on his fish cage he had staked on a rope in the ground. In the metal basket, half floating in the water, was a few medium sized channel catfish and on a line tied to the bank, independent of the basket was a large flathead catfish that probably weighed near twenty pounds. Not the kind of cat that you would stuff, but definitely one to fry. He listened as the various animals of the area made there various noises. The frogs and toads croaked. The crickets chirped. The owls hooted. The turtledoves cooed. The mosquitoes buzzed. The mayflies made various flapping sounds as they darted around Pete's Coleman Lantern. He had a Bud Light in his hands and at the moment, not a care in the world besides his fishing poles. But suddenly the frogs and toads stopped croaking. Then the crickets stopped. And then the owls. And the turtledoves. The only thing that was still making noise was the insistent buzzing of the insects. However, due to Pete's suddenly heightened state of awareness, even they seemed quite silent. And then he saw it. Darting through the trees was a shape. Not quite solid, but not completely translucent. He could make out the lines of it. It was definitely running on two legs and seemed to have a very human shape. But it was huge, and not to mention see-through. He saw it turn its head as it ran by and it seemed to look over at him, but it quickly ran on away from him.  
  
After taking in what he had just seen for a few minutes, a very pale Pete packed up his fishing gear into his truck. He then grabbed his fish and put them in the back as well. All the way home, Pete's eyes were as wide as fists.  
  
* * *  
  
The Yautja saw the biped sitting on the riverbank as he was making his way his ship. But after a brief scan, he saw that the creature had no form of weaponry on him. And being an older specimen, he was ruled as unworthy to be prey unless he had a weapon.  
  
* * *  
  
As Tyler walked into his office the next day, his phone immediately rang. "Sheriff's office," he said into the receiver.  
  
"Sheriff," said a very scared sounding Pete, "I saw something while I was fishing last night."  
  
"What? More bones?" Tyler asked.  
  
"If they were bones, then they sure didn't look like them, and they sure moved fast," replied the man.  
  
"I'll be right there Pete." 


	3. Chapter III

Author's note: I'm really sorry it took me so long to get this chapter done. I'll try not to be so slow in the future.  
  
Chapter III  
  
"There, that's where I saw it," said the shaking old man, as he pointed to the opposite bank. "It was like a demon or something," Pete said. "I was just sitting here and then it came along."  
  
"Come on, Pete," started Joe Tyler, "Let's check out the other side for tracks."  
  
"All right, Joe," replied Pete. Tyler trudged through the brush and thistle towards the truck. Various finches, crows, and other birds tweeted and whistled around him, while the morning locusts were making their usual loud chirping. The slightly moist plants squished beneath his feet with every step. He felt a couple of pricks at his fingers and palms when he hit a patch of tall thistle; this immediately caused his hand to itch. Tyler pulled out the keys to the truck and started it up as Pete clambered into the passenger seat.  
  
"I'll just go on the Broughton Bridge and come around from there," Tyler told Pete.  
  
"Okay Joe, whatever you say," replied the older man.  
  
The truck bounced and rocked as it covered the rough, dirt road. As the men and the truck came to a cornfield, the dirt road became gravel, and then that gravel road came onto a small, two-lane, state highway. They drove along the highway for about ten minutes and then pulled of and crossed the newly remodeled Broughton Bridge. A couple of younger men had lawn chairs and were fishing off one of the built in fishing spots on the side. The Republican River flowed slowly beneath the bridge. It was unusually high for this time of the year. By the summer months a dry spell tended to be set in already in area. As the bridge ended, Tyler caught sight of his turn- off; a small dirt road that headed in the direction of the spot which Pete had allegedly saw his "demon or something".  
  
Once again, the Dodge Ram bounced and kicked up dirt as it traversed down the road. Pete didn't seem to be enjoying the ride, Tyler noticed. His wrinkled face frowned with each large bump. They finally came to a wooded area in behind the riverbank across from where Pete had been. Tyler slowed the vehicle down and brought it over to the side of the dirt road before completely stopping it. The two men exited the vehicle and walked towards the trees. A rabbit scurried away through the grass on seeing the two humans. Tyler scanned the ground with his eyes for any trace of footprints or any kind of tracks, and it didn't take long to spot some. Tyler saw a print in the damp ground like he had never seen before. It was very human- like, but very long and wide. It would be about the right size for a seven- or-so-foot tall male who happened to have protruding claws from the end of his feet. Tyler was extremely baffled. But as he looked around more, he saw even more prints. The sheriff looked back at his elderly companion, who was nervously turning about, looking for any sign of the man (or creature) that had created the prints.  
  
Tyler himself knew quite a bit about tracking animals. And these prints weren't like anything he had seen before. He even couldn't say they could be Bigfoot tracks, not that he believed in Bigfoot. But as far as he knew, they didn't have claws like on this track. Each print sunk into the damp ground about three-quarters of an inch to and inch each. This suggested that whatever made them was about two hundred and fifty to three hundred pounds. The tracks also indicated that whatever made them had a long stride, for each print was about four feet away from the last one. Luckily, Tyler had come prepared for the circumstance of finding tracks. A bag of plaster and a bucket of water were strapped into the tail bed of the Ram. He trudged back, careful not to screw up any of the incriminating tracks, and retrieved the plaster and water.  
  
"What's that for?" Pete asked upon his return.  
  
"I'm going to make plaster casts of the tracks and bring them to Dr. Peterson and have her take a look at them," Tyler replied, "Plus then we'll always have copies of the tracks in our possession." He knelt down and put some plaster and water into one of the prints until it was filled with a snowy white liquid that would soon dry and become hard. "We'll do a few more of these while we wait for this one and then head back to town."  
  
* * *  
  
The Yautja observed as one of the planet's billions of indigenous bipeds examined tracks that had been carelessly left by him the night before. He also noted that the same older specimen that had seen him was there as well. Perhaps the other biped was a form of law enforcement that the older one had reported his sighting to. The law enforcement biped seemed to have some hunting skills, for he was examining the length between prints and the depth of each print. This one would be worthy prey, if only it had been armed.  
  
* * *  
  
"What do you make of them, May?" Tyler asked May Peterson.  
  
The young veterinarian seemed completely dumb-founded by the bizarre footprints. Her eyes were wide and he bottom jaw was dangling as if no bone connected it to her skull. She could do nothing but shake her head slowly and stare at the plaster castings that were sitting on the vet's desk. She finally looked at Tyler and Pete and simply said, "I have no idea."  
  
"What a great help this has been," Pete said sarcastically.  
  
"I," started May, "I'm sorry. I just have never seen anything quite like this."  
  
Tyler picked up one of the castings and examined it. "I figure from the distance between the tracks and the depth," he started, "Whatever made these tracks was probably about seven feet high and about two-hundred and fifty pounds. And judging by the length of the claws, it's probably a predatory animal."  
  
"Or it's badly groomed," May added. She looked over at Pete, "Now, you say you saw it walk on two legs?"  
  
"Definitely," the old man simply replied. "And it was transparent."  
  
"The transparent part baffles me," May stated.  
  
"You sure you weren't partly drunk when you saw it Pete?" Tyler asked.  
  
"Hell no!" Pete exclaimed. "I was more sober 'n a man with a bug up his ass!"  
  
"Sorry, Pete," Tyler replied, "I just needed to check."  
  
"Well, you know I'm not crazy," he stated, "There's evidence that something went by there."  
  
"I know, Pete, I know," Tyler said soothingly.  
  
Suddenly a grumbling noise was heard throughout the office.  
  
"Guess I'm kinda hungry," Pete said. "I'm gonna head over to Low Places, anyone care to join me?"  
  
Both the sheriff and the vet shook their heads at the notion of going to the local bar/restaurant. "I got a few appointments coming up," replied May.  
  
"I have paperwork I need to catch up on," Tyler said.  
  
* * *  
  
That night the Yautja decided to feed on the delectable brain of the quadrupeds that the bipeds seemed take care of and harvest for their meat. Once again careful not tot spill blood, he also took the heart and liver. And after finishing his meal, he departed on his route through the riverbanks to the ship.  
  
* * *  
  
Pete sat at the riverbank where he had been the night before, rifle in hand, scouting for the beast he had seen the previous night. The night sounded the exact same as always. Owls, doves, frogs, toads, mayflies, mosquitoes, coyotes, and all the like. Everything was normal. And then it stopped. Just like before, it had stopped. Pete readied his rifle and put his eye to the scope scanning for the beast. Numerous trees sweeped in and out of his view as he ran the scope along the ground. And then he heard a rustling, not from the ground, but from the trees. The beast was in the trees across from him. He quickly centered the beast's apparent chest in the center of the scope and pulled the trigger. A loud booming noise erupted from the nozzle of the rifle and a flash came with it. Pete closed his eyes for a mere two seconds, and when he opened them again, the creature was gone.  
  
A minute later, a sharp pain entered his back, and he felt blood trickle down to his pelvis. He looked behind him and saw a large, green, man-like creature behind him. It had a gray helmet, black dreadlocks, a loin cloth, shoulder pads (one with a structure that looked rather like a gun), and two gauntlets (one on each arm). Two blades were attached to the beast's right gauntlet. Two blades that happened to be dug into Pete's back. 


	4. Chapter IV

Chapter IV

The next morning, Tyler found himself on the normal, boring patrol. He drove the Ram along Kansas State Highway Fifteen and wait for any calls from the county dispatcher. It was not long before Tyler's hope was answered and a static filled voice projected itself into the cab of the truck. "_Dispatcher to Unit One_."

Tyler grabbed the microphone and pulled it towards his mouth while pushing the "open frequency" button. "Unit One here, what do we have?"

"_We've got a possible ten-forty-six. But it's only a ten-thirty-seven_," reported the dispatcher.

"Ten-four. Where?" asked Tyler.

"_Over where they're doing work near Wakefield. It's an off day so there's no construction workers_."

"Ten-four," replied Tyler. 

"_It's apparently just some kids driving around the construction zone, but by the sound of it they could be intoxicated_," said the dispatcher.

"Ten-four. Be there in a jiff." He stopped the vehicle and did a U-Turn and head for the nearest route. He headed through town and turned right at the County Fairgrounds onto Broughton Road. _Fair's coming up soon_, Tyler thought; _need to start thinking about entries_. Wheat, corn and alfalfa fields passed through Tyler's view as he drove about four miles and turned and headed for the Broughton Bridge. After a little while, he came across the construction site. Work on yet another local bridge was being done. This made it particularly difficult to get to places like Wakefield and Junction City. Tyler pulled the Ram over near an overheated Chevy Silverado that was sitting on the side of the road. The Silverado was an older model, and probably couldn't handle the activity in the heat. The driver and passengers seemed to have vacated the vehicle. He got out and looked around the area. Several "Construction site" signs had been knocked over and tire streaks had been left on the road.

Tyler picked up the microphone of the radio, "This is Unit One. Ten-twenty-three."

"_Ten-four Unit One_," responded the dispatcher.

A few giggles came from behind the tree line. The aroma of marijuana smoke filled the air. K-Weed, Tyler recalled, was what the local wild hemp was called. Not as strong as selectively bred marijuana, Tyler knew due to his own experimentation with it as a teenager, but still could get the job done.

Tyler walked in the direction of the laughter. Then the laughter stopped. He suddenly heard a teenager yell, "Oh shit, let's get out of here!" 

Five young adults, three boys and two girls, made a run straight for the Silverado. A couple girls seemed to look back over their shoulders in terror. Tyler's jaw dropped at the behavior of the delinquents. He noticed one of them had a pistol protruding from his jean shorts.

"_Freeze!_ _Hold it!_" Tyler yelled. 

The teens stopped and stared at Tyler, seemingly completely unaware that he had been there. One of the older looking boys stepped towards and pointed towards the trees. "There's something back there," he said.

"You kids stay here," Tyler told them. "And don't think you can get away, because I know who you are." He then moved for the trees.

*  *  *

The Yautja observed the five adolescent bipeds. All of them had bright orange silhouettes with various colors inside while surround by a cold blue. They seemed to be sharing an object made of paper and local flora that had embers at the end and smoke rising. One had a small projectile weapon, but seemed intoxicated and did not seem a threat. The others were making small sounds that seemed joyful or at least pleasing. He scanned them from afar and detected a foreign substance in their lungs and blood stream.  It occurred to him that the object they were using was a narcotic or hallucinogen. But then the Yautja made a mistake; he stepped from his perch on a branch onto another branch. This one was not very strong, so it cracked beneath his feet. The bipeds looked up and saw him. The smallest one, likely a female began screaming and they all ran. One of them yelled a phrase of its native language. He followed them through the trees to the nearby road where he saw the law enforcement biped from the day before. 

"_Freeze! Hold it!_" yelled the law enforcement biped. The younger ones stopped and stared at the bright orange form of the adult biped. 

One of the larger adolescents moved forward and spoke to the adult biped. The adult biped moved to the vehicle he had come in and removed a weapon.

The Yautja tensed and began targeting the law enforcement biped. Now was an honorable chance to claim the prize. The native biped trudged through the flora, frightening various animals. He observed the cracked branch he had been just moments before. But to his surprise, the biped displayed even more of his tracking skills; closely examining the branch by climbing the tree and putting himself just feet away from the cloaked hunter. Now was not the time, the Yautja decided, the law enforcement biped would be one of the final trophies.

*  *  *

Tyler closely examined the branch that had snapped and was dangling from its base on the trunk. He could tell that too much weight had been on it and caused it to snap. What looked to be claw marks were also apparent to the sheriff. He ran his fingers through the marks to get a good idea of the depth of the marks as well as the size of the claws. Whatever it was that made them, it was probably large. Tyler thought back to the plaster castings of Pete's animal. He remembered how large the feet and claws were. He then told himself it was probably something some kids had made years before and that the branch was just old and that's why it snapped.

 But then he saw something. Movement to his right. He couldn't see what made it, but he could see it still. What looked to be a leg and foot darted from his view. The only thing was, the thing he saw was transparent except for a distorted outline of it.

After it was gone, he froze for a moment, trying to make sense of what he had just saw. When he failed to do that, however, he scrambled for his truck.

*  *  *

The Yautja reviewed his encounter with the law enforcement biped. "Fre," he started, "Freeze."


	5. Chapter V

Chapter V

Tyler entered his home, seeing his seventeen-year-old son, Michael, sitting in front of the living room television playing some game with guns, taking no notice of his father's entrance. Tyler threw down his hat and started taking off various items from his uniform, and proceeded to his bedroom. He couldn't get what he had seen earlier in the day out of his mind. He would talk about it with Dr. Peterson the next day, but he was very tired. It had been sweltering hot all day, being as July was just starting. He was off the next day, which meant labor at home at the farm. The wheat had been cut without him, but the cattle still needed tending to. He threw himself into the shower to clean the sweat-soaked feeling from his body.

After his shower, he immediately climbed into bed, even though it was only about eight-thirty. Sleep was the only other thing in his mind besides the transparent foot he had seen. His eyelids grew heavy immediately after resting his head on the pillow and he drifted to sleep.

*  *  *

Tyler awoke in bed, to see blood soaking the covers on top of him. He quickly got up and saw he was uninjured, but he did not know the source of the blood. He saw a trail of small, dark red drops going across the hardwood floor of his bedroom.

He followed the blood into his bathroom, and what he saw made fear course through his veins like a poison. His wife, Sandy, was lying dead in the bathtub. And over her body was an invisible form…

*  *  *

Joe Tyler awoke again to see no blood, and to his great relief, that his wife was sleeping right next to him. His forehead dripped with sweat. He quietly got up and went to the bathroom. He ran the cold water from the sink and splashed it onto his face, giving a soothing feeling to his overheated, adrenaline-high body. He checked the clock; it was only eleven o'clock.

He leaned against the counter of his bathroom, straining his tired shoulder muscles by holding all his weight up with them. He breathed deeply, in and out, in and out. _Just a dream_, he thought, _just a dream_. He did several stretches in order to loosen his muscles. First he let his upper torso hang limp at his waist, in a bent over position, and then slowly brought himself back up. Then he did some squats and rolled his arms.

He placed his hand on his bare chest, right where his heart was. He slowly breathed in and calmed himself. He looked in the medicine cabinet behind the bathroom mirror and grabbed a sleep aid. Once his heart came to its normal pace, he headed back for his bed, intent on sleeping again. He was about to swallow the sleeping pills when the phone rang. _Who the hell is calling at this time?_ Tyler asked himself. He ran over to the phone on the nightstand and saw his wife stirring, lifting her head slowly and opening her eyes.

Tyler got to the phone by the third time it rang. "Tyler residence," he said, "This is Joe."

"Joe," started the voice of one of the deputies, Carl Willis, "This is Deputy Willis. We have a major problem."

Tyler breathed in deeply, "I'll be right there," he started. Then a thought occurred to him, "Where are you?"

"Down by the Snider Farm, on the river," Willis replied.

_That's where Pete saw the thing_, Tyler thought.

"Be right there," he told him.

"What is it, Joe?" asked Sandy Tyler. 

"Something, I dunno."

*  *  *

Tyler parked the Ram on the dirt road next to the river, and trudged down through the weeds to the bank. He was still in his pajama pants, but had thrown on a shirt and picked up his badge and gun. _What the hell is going on?_ Joe kept asking himself. 

But it didn't take him long to get an idea. Within twenty feet of the riverbank, he smelled the scent of a dead animal. He couldn't see the source of the stench, because of the trees and the plants, but he did catch sight of several of the men on the force, one of them was Willis. A couple of them were standing with their hands on their hips, looking down, and shaking their heads. Tyler also caught sight of the top of James Larry's, the county coroner, head. As Tyler got out onto the bank, he was horrified.

A man's body was lying on the ground, slightly decomposed. But it was only the body, there was no head. A gaping hole ran along the back of the body. No fishing equipment was present, but a rifle was sitting next to the body. 

"_Holy God_," Tyler muttered. He looked at Larry, "What the hell happened? Who? How?"

Larry shook his head and looked up at Tyler with a tear I his eye. "It's Pete, Joe. It's Pete."

"_It's Pete?_"

But as Tyler examined the clothing, it matched what Pete had been wearing the last time he saw him. Willis handed him a wallet. Tyler opened it and saw a matching driver's license, credit card, social security card, and American Legion membership card.

"Bud Morris found him," explained Willis, "Said that he was just trying to find another spot to fish from and found him." He nodded to the decapitated corpse.

"What happened to him?"

Dr. James Larry stood up and looked Tyler in the eye. He took a few deep breaths; Pete had been a friend of Larry's father, and like a second father to the coroner. The large, black man looked incredibly vulnerable at the moment. He sobbed a couple times, but brought up his composure. "I've never seen anything like this," he began, "It looks like someone stabbed his back, reached into the wound, and tore out the spine and skull with it."

Tyler's legs gave out and he fell to the ground. He had seen some brutal murders in his time, but he had _never_ seen anything like this.

"_Tore_ it out?" Tyler grimly asked.

Larry nodded, "Yeah." He trailed off and looked into the clear, starry night sky. "I just don't get it," he said, frustrated, " I've _never_ seen anything like this. I mean, when I got into the business, I knew I would see some grizzly stuff. But _this_?"

Tyler labored to slow his heartbeat. He closed his eyes and tried not to inhale the stench of Pete's decaying flesh. Just then he heard rapid footsteps, he looked in the direction of the source and saw another one of the deputies running towards him. The deputy stopped and took a few breaths; apparently the run had taken some of his energy.

"They just," he started, still breathing heavily. He bent his knees and placed his hands upon them. "They just found his face."

"His _face_?" Tyler asked; his face contorted in a disgusted look.

"Yeah, it looks like someone skinned his skull and just left the leftovers," replied the deputy.

Tyler got up and brushed himself off, "I'm going to the station. Clean this up and get the remains to the morgue. Don't talk about this to anyone yet. The knowledge of someone in this town that's capable of this kind of murder would send the people into a panic." He thought for a second. "Just tell everyone that he died of a heart attack and some animals got at him. It'll be a closed casket funeral for sure." 


	6. Chapter VI

**Chapter VI**

Joe Tyler stood next to his friend, James Larry, who had taken the death of Pete Jacobson very hard. Practically half the town was present at the cemetery, all dressed in black. He rested a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder. Larry had grown up with Pete. He and Larry's father had been Army buddies when they both served at nearby Fort Riley. When James's father died, Pete had helped his mother to take care of him. 

Joe figured that, despite Pete's craggily, haggard looking appearance, he had made an impact on most of the people of the town. Only a handful of the people there at the funeral knew Pete's true cause of death. It was quite unorthodox to hold information from the town; Tyler and the rest of the police force knew that if Pete's murder had gotten out, then a panic would go through the town. Paranoia and fear would run wild.  No, for the time being, the town would merely think that he had suffered a heart attack and rigor had already set in before he was found. 

Tyler hung his head solemnly while the pastor said the normal routine. The sheriff just couldn't imagine who or what had done this. But then again, after some of the things he had seen in the past few days he was ready to believe just about anything. He just needed to find this thing…

*  *  *

Blake Cooper just couldn't figure out what had been killing his cattle. In one week, four of his cows had been killed and cut open. Every one of them had been killed at night. He wasn't going to take it anymore; he was staying up tonight, with his shotgun. He examined the carcass closely, the exact same type of cuts and incisions as the previous ones. He had been doing some research on the Internet. Cattle mutilations, as most called them, were not uncommon through out the American plains and southwest, especially in New Mexico and Arizona. Most of the people who wrote about these cattle mutilations, all of which Blake thought to be nutcases, attributed the unnatural deaths to extra-terrestrial causes. He wasn't the kind to believe in such stupid stuff. If he couldn't see it, hear it, taste it, smell it, or touch it, he didn't believe in it, with the exception of things he had read about such as atoms and molecules and bacteria and such. Something like an alien he'd have to see. _Then I'd kill it and sell the body to some rich scientist_, he thought to himself.

*  *  * 

After the funeral, the Tyler's made a few stops around town. Sandy and Michael headed off to the local movie theater, the Rex, while Joe made a brief appearance at the courtroom to testify the truth about pulling over some idiot who had challenged a ticket because he didn't want to pay. The Clay county courthouse itself was massive for such a small town. It stood around ten stories high, due to the clock tower. The part of the building that was used as the courthouse was really only a few stories. The lawn was well kept and surprisingly green for July. Of course, it had been very hot and humid in June and was continuing, so there was plenty of moisture for the plants to take in. Around the building were several statues, one of a pioneer-like man whose identity was always a mystery to the sheriff because he never stopped and read the plaque. Another statue was on the other side of the tower; this one was of a Native American carrying a long, sharp looking spear. Both statues were dark ebony and seemed a little dusty. It had a stern, grizzled face, which reminded Tyler very much of the Sac and Fox elder that had come out and examined the burial ground. Tyler thought back on the story about the demon hunter from the skies that the elder told him.

It was something like this: Centuries ago, a star fell out of the sky. This star was a carrier for a wicked demon. He killed many brave hunters, and only hunters, and took their heads as trophies. He sometimes left their bodies out, skinless, as if drying them for jerky. It fed on the buffalo, for many were found dead. Many hunting parties went out to kill the beast; they knew they could kill it because it bled. But many of these hunting parties never returned. Their bodies were often found later when the tribe moved on to find buffalo. All who had seen the demon only saw its form, for it was not solid, but almost as clear spring water. For a year, man upon man died, until one day a young warrior decided to take vengeance for his father's death. He left at night with nothing but a hunting spear and food for himself. For a week no sign of the young warrior had been seen and all thought he was dead, but the he came back soon after a large flash and a mushroom shaped cloud. His face was cut and bruised and his spear was covered in green blood. The boy said he had tracked the demon back to its fallen star and attacked. He injured it severely and when the demon touched his gauntlet, a sound that the boy could only think of as a warning started. He ran as fast as he could. When the flash came, a great explosion of fire came and destroyed the creature and its star. The boy's name meant Man of Stone, and since then the tribe has believed it would take another man of stone to kill the demon, should it return.

Suddenly Tyler thought of the strange parallel to his own situation in the legend. Both he and Pete had seen something semi-transparent and they had footprint casts to prove that something had been there. A man had been murdered, his head completely removed from his body. And in the legend, buffalo had been mysteriously killed, but now it was cattle. Tyler suddenly sighed and shook his head, _I'm just getting paranoid, I probably didn't see anything more than a bird flying off_, he thought to himself. He cleared his mind and headed over to the Rex to wait for his wife and son.

*  *  *

That night, Blake Cooper sat on his tractor, waiting for whoever it was who had been killing his cattle. He had a loaded shotgun in his arms and ammunition in his pocket, just in case. The locusts and other creatures that made noise in the night went on loudly, making it hard to hear anything approaching. His eyes felt heavy, but he knew he couldn't afford to loose any more cows. His bobbed to the side a bit and he took a deep breath and quickly pulled it upright. Blake took his coffee thermos and took several swigs to help wake himself up. After a few minutes his eyes were a bit wider and he readjusted himself so he could get a better view of the cattle. Most of them were asleep, but one or two still walked about. He had his eye on his daughter's favorite bull, Icarus, named for some guy from Greek mythology that Cooper didn't really care about. 

_CRACK_

The disgruntled rancher quickly turned in the direction of the sound. A limb had just broken, seemingly at random. The leaves in the trees moved in an unnatural fashion; which happened to be against the wind. He brought up his shotgun and shined a spotlight in the place where the branch had fallen.

*  *  *

A bright light disrupted the Yautja's thermal vision mode on his helmet. It came from a dormant vehicle that resided near the herd of the quadrupeds that the Yautja enjoyed. The light was emanating from some sort of light beacon that a native biped was using from inside the vehicle. The non-native of the planet took a closer examination of the native biped. He held a projectile weapon, aimed for the Yautja. He moved quickly before a loud bang resonated through the trees and scared away the nearby fauna. He rolled to the side to avoid a leaping, antlered quadruped that was running for its life. He quickly aimed his targeting sensors for the biped in the vehicle and fired his shoulder-mounted plasma cannon. The result of the shot, however, was undesired, for the entire vehicle exploded in a vast array of heat that overloaded the thermal vision the Yautja was using. _That's two of them_, he thought to himself in his own language.

*  *  *

The phone rang at Tyler's house about ten minutes later. "Yeah," Joe started, "What is it now?"


	7. Chapter VII

**Chapter VII**

The flaming wreckage of the exploded John Deere tractor was strewn about the area. Sadly, several chunks had hit the house, and as Tyler arrived at the scene, firefighters were combating the flames that had engulfed the Tyler home. Mary Cooper and the Cooper children had escaped the flames due to being awoken by the explosion. The fire of the house and the wrecked tractor gave an eerie glow to the area. Tyler had not seen anything like this in his town before. It seemed that the tractor had just exploded randomly. The speaker of his police radio was going crazy. The county dispatcher was calling as much help to the scene as possible. Even help from the nearby city of Wakefield was being called up; the fire was out of control. 

"_We've got a ten-thirty-four at 3205 North Navajo Road. All units respond. Disturbance includes a ten-forty and ten-eighty-five_," said the voice of the dispatcher. Tyler stopped the Ram, got out, and headed for Mary Cooper. She was crying frantically while Willis, Tyler's head deputy, tried to calm her. Once Mary was within reach, Tyler grabbed her firmly and looked at her straight in the eye.

"Mary!" he said to get her attention, she refused to look up at him, "Tell me what happened."

The woman was crying so hard that she couldn't speak. Tyler rubbed her back to help along air through her lungs. She was sobbing terribly. 

"_Mary!_ Calm down!" Tyler urged.

After a few more minutes, Mary Cooper finally looked up at Tyler. The light of the fire reflected of her eyes, giving her a slightly vengeful expression. "He…he was…was," she sobbed in between all of her words, "He was trying to…trying to guard the cattle...we found more of more of them dead…and he wanted to…to catch who or whatever…was killing them."

"How did the tractor explode?" Tyler asked.

"I…I was looking…looking out the window when it happened…A branch cracked…Blake shot at it…Then a blue light…It hit the tractor…and…and it…" She began crying insanely. Tyler just patted her on the back and moved on, there wasn't much he could do.

_Two deaths within a week and not natural deaths_, Tyler thought,_ both fairly nasty deaths. Both were under weird circumstances._ The sheriff shook the thought off, but suddenly something popped into his head, there had been a rifle from the scene of Pete's murder, and it had been discharged before Pete died. And Blake Cooper had shot at something. The sudden connection stuck in his mind, but he decided not to say anything to anyone yet. 

*  *  *

It had taken hours to put the fire in the house out, and by the time it was gone there was nothing of the house left but ash and burnt lumber. The Cooper family stood in a huddle, and sobbed for their now departed father and husband, as well as for their home. An event like this completely changed everything in people's lives, and Tyler could do nothing but feel sorry for them. Luckily they were insured, and there would likely be a fundraiser soon to help them rebuild. 

But one phrase lingered on Joe's mind, _then a blue light…it hit the tractor_. Too many strange things were happening in the past couple weeks, and Tyler didn't like it. When he got home, he immediately logged onto the Internet and began searching for information on abnormal sightings that corresponded with things that he had seen or that had been described to him. He typed in several phrases to search engines, such as "Transparent creatures", "Blue lights", "Cattle mutilations", "Footprints", and "Human killing". To his dismay though, none turned up with anything but sites dedicated to Bigfoot, the Loch Ness monster, the Mothman, and UFOs. But then an idea hit him. He went into one of the better search engines and typed in "Demon Hunter from the Skies".

One web site came in on the results; it was called _The Predator Hunter's Lair_. He moved the cursor of his mouse over the link and clicked. The website loaded, and he was greeted with a drawing of a transparent biped that was next to a headless body, the man's head was clutched in the area where the hand of the creature apparently was. He clicked where the word "Enter" was and a page full of text appeared. The text detailed the very same story of the "Demon Hunter from the Skies" that was told to him by the tribal hunter. Tyler read on:

I have spent the last fifteen years researching the subject of these fabled creatures. A man I once met of Austrian descent told me of his encounter with one of these "Predators". He told me that he was stranded in the jungle and he ultimately killed it. That is all I know. But I have done research since that time because I became obsessed with finding the true identities of these creatures. I have found that many cultures have legends detailing a similar creature that can render itself invisible and hunts men. 

It seems that whenever sightings of these creatures are made, a wave of gruesome murders follow. An event in Los Angeles in 1997 seems to coincide with this determination. Several citizens of the area claim to have seen a creature, about seven feet tall, and transparent. During this time, there was a large amount of killings, drug dealers were found skinned alive, also, several people were killed onboard a subway when the lights went out. Several of the police officers investigating this occurrence also were killed. Some citizens also claimed to have seen "men in black", government agents that were apparently pursuing the creature. Such occurrences have been reported throughout history. From ancient Egypt, to medieval Europe and modern times, this is a little known of creature. If you have a sighting to report, email me.

Tyler was astounded by what the site had to say, and he immediately began to compose an email to this "Predator Hunter" describing the situation. After carefully detailing the situation to the person behind the web site, he reclined back and waited. His eyes burned with redness and he was very tired, yet he could not sleep. The only light in the room was the screen of the computer. He sat and did nothing for seemingly hours, when suddenly, the screen saver shut off and an automated voice said, "You've got mail."


	8. Chapter VIII

**Chapter VIII**

Joe Tyler brought the cursor over the email from "The Predator Hunter". It bore the title "Your Little Problem". Upon clicking on the email, the computer flashed briefly in a strange manner, and shortly after it happened, another email came in. On examining the first email, he found that it was blank. On the second, however, there was a small amount of text addressed to Tyler directly, despite the fact that Tyler did not give his name.

Dear Mr. Joseph Tyler,

Through the miracles of technology and computer programming, my people have traced your home address down and I shall be coming with a research team to your fair town. It is my hope, that if indeed a "Predator" is lurking about in your area of Kansas, that we may capture and study it. I apologize for my shifty means of finding you, but it was necessary if I am to capture one of these creatures. My people and I swear to you that we will try our hardest not to hinder upon your lawful duties. I look forward to meeting you.

                                                                                                Terrance B. Walker, Ph.D.   

Tyler got up from the computer in shock. If ever paranoia about a sheriff were to run through this town, it would be now. Everyone would find out about the research maniacs somehow, and then the whole town would think he was crazy for calling in cryptozoologists. He found he couldn't sleep that night, and luckily he was not on duty the next day. He would however, have to take one of his bulls to the fairgrounds for the livestock exhibits for the county fair.

*  *  *

It was not uncommon for people to stay the night with their cattle when bringing them to a strange place. And young Jay Anderson was sleeping with his beloved cow, Mary, to help ease her before seeing visitors for the county fair. He was the only person in the barn at the time, mainly because it was near midnight. He couldn't sleep, most likely due to the foul stench of the various animals that had made their temporary residence in the barn on the county fairgrounds. The night itself was oddly quiet; the normal sounds of crickets and locusts seemed far off and distant, as if all sounds around him had suddenly switched off. And then something came. First a rustling sound, as if something large was moving through the nearby brush. 

And then, it appeared. A silhouette, or maybe just a shadow, nevertheless, it had form but was not solid. A humanoid transparent thing appeared before him. Everything behind it was distorted and blurred. The silhouette seemed to stop and examine him briefly, and then proceeded to attack Mary. What seemed to be arms quickly found a point in the cow and slowly were inserted. What young Jay found the most odd was that no blood was spilled, the cow just toppled over, dead. At this point, Jay was so profoundly afraid, that he couldn't run, let alone scream. 

All he could do was watch.

Soon the ordeal was over, whatever had attacked Mary, had dragged her body away. Meanwhile, the young boy of twelve years sat in the corner of the stable, curled in a ball and clutching his calves so hard that the blood circulation was being cut off. His breathing was labored, likely due to the shock combined with his asthma. If he didn't get to his inhaler soon, his lungs would fail and he would die. But he was too afraid to move. Soon he started to see spots and things started to darken. But he had to move. His inhaler was in his bag, only a few feet away…

                                                                        *  *  *

The next day, Tyler came into the barn after receiving a call. He had slept like a rock the night before, much to his pleasure, and was awoken by a call from the dispatcher. Apparently, a young resident of the rural area of the county (what wasn't rural area in the county, though?), Jay Anderson, had gone comatose from shock combined with asthma. He had blacked out, yet somehow managed to stay alive. He was being loaded into the ambulance as Tyler arrived, alongside May Peterson, one of the local vets. Apparently the cow that the boy had been with had been mutilated in the same fashion as the Coopers' livestock had been killed.

_Oh crap_, Tyler thought to himself, _this thing is moving in on the town now._

The thought did not settle well with him. If he was right about the connection he had made about it only killing people if they were armed, then there was going to be trouble, since most of the citizens of his town had firearms in their homes. Once again, however, he decided not to say anything to anyone, for fear of a local rebellion. He eventually did, however, decide to ask someone he thought he could trust. He waited until May was done with examining the carcass and then cornered her into a private spot.

"May, how likely do you think it is that this is an intelligent creature that is killing the cattle?" he asked, discreetly.

She looked around to make sure no one was listening, "Truthfully, there is no doubt in my mind that something with incredible anatomical knowledge is killing these cows."

Tyler nodded, me too. And I have a few ideas. Meet me at my house tonight. Get James too," he said, referring to the coroner, Dr. James Larry.

*  *  *

The doorbell rang at the Tyler home at approximately 6:45 PM. Joe had sent his wife and son off to nearby Manhattan to do some errands and to see a movie (being as it took several weeks for new movies to get to the Rex theater). He opened the front door to see May Peterson and James Larry standing at the door. "Come on in," the sheriff told the coroner and the veterinarian. He closed the door and entered the living room.

"I think you both know what I wanted to talk to you about," Tyler started off, "There is something out there."

May and James both nodded, grimly. 

"I saw it," Tyler said.

The other two were both surprised. May's eyes were as wide as half dollars and Larry cocked up an eyebrow.

"I haven't told anyone. I was responding to a call about a bunch of teenagers just messing around at the construction site near Wakefield. I was up in a tree looking at a snapped branch, and there it was, moving away from me," Joe told them.

"Was it like what Pete said he saw?" May asked.

"Man-like. Tall. Transparent except that everything behind it was distorted," Tyler said, nodding. "A couple things surprised me though. After Pete and Blake died, I noticed a couple things. For one, they were both armed when they died. And they both had strange things happening. Pete saw the same thing I did the night before he died, in the same place that he was murdered."

"Pete was murdered?" May asked, astonished. She was one of the many that were told he had heart failure.

"Yes. She wasn't mauled by animals either," James told her, "He was decapitated and mutilated. His spine was ripped out and his face was skinned from his skull.

May gasped and held her hands to her mouth.

"Don't tell anyone," Tyler said, "We kept it quiet to avoid there being a panic."

The vet merely nodded, her eyes were wide once again.

"Another thing," Tyler said, "Mary Cooper told me that when she was looking out the window before the tractor Blake was on exploded, a blue light came at him from the trees." James gave him a questioning look at this. "It came from the trees. What Pete saw was moving around in the trees for a short time. _What I saw was moving around in the trees_."

May looked at him puzzled, "What does this all mean?"

"We're dealing with a hunter," Tyler replied.

Suddenly the door swung open and a man who was middle-aged, fairly tall, had brown hair and a square face with a large nose walked in. "And he is right, my good lady," said the man, "And of course, he probably derived that assumption a bit off of my own genius." He walked in and shook Tyler's hand. "T.B. Walker, pleasure to meet you Mr. Tyler."


	9. Chapter IX

**Chapter IX**

Tyler was dumbstruck, he was not expecting Walker to just barge into his home like this, let alone know exactly what he and the other two were talking about. "Forgive me for the interruption, Mr. Tyler," he apologized with a New England accent, "But I arrived just now and heard your conversation. I wanted to see what you believed you were dealing with before I came in."

Tyler looked at the man scornfully, "You know, that's breaking and entering. I could arrest you for that."

"Once again, my apologies, Sheriff," Walker responded.

"Well, I'm not even sure if I believe you. For all we know, I could be crazy and we might just be dealing with a murder and an accident," Tyler responded. 

"But what if the murders continue?" asked Walker, "What shall you tell the people of your little town? One of them is a serial killer? They'd all go mad with paranoia and fear, accusing one another of being killers. You could have a complete revolt."

Joe didn't answer, while James Larry and May Cooper looked at him. "Who is he?" May finally asked.

Tyler looked over at her, "T.B. Walker. I did research on the Internet for any events similar to what we're going through. Then again, we might be going through nothing, I most likely imagined what I saw and I just jumped to conclusions. But anyway, I found his website and sent him an email concerning what I saw and he decided to trace the email to its source and he came here."

"But your accounts coincide with other 'Predators'," responded Walker. He looked over at James and May, "Forgive me, I must introduce myself," he said. "I am Terrance Bartholomew Walker. T.B., for short, as you may have already observed. I hope to capture and study the creature that has unfortunately came upon your quiet home."

He turned to Tyler once again, "If you would be so kind as to show my team and I where all the sightings were, as well as the plaster castings that you have taken of the tracks."

Tyler sighed, "Could it wait until tomorrow?"

"If you wish to prevent any further deaths, we must verify if a 'Predator' has been here," Walker said, forcefully.

Tyler sighed once again; he already did not like the man, "Alright."

*  *  * 

After being forced to tag along with Walker's Research and Capture team for several hours, Tyler was very relieved with the new day dawning a hopefully quiet day of patrol. He was hoping that the team did not find anything out of the ordinary and would just leave. But after several hours, the dispatcher came in with a call he was not wanting to hear, "_Unit One_," said the dispatcher's voice of the radio. 

"Unit One, ten-four," responded Tyler.

"_Unit-One, we have a ten-ninety-seven_," she responded.

"Ten-four. Ten-twenty?" Tyler asked, implying that he needed to know where the disturbance was.

"_Ten-four, ten-twenty at Highway Fifteen. Mile marker two-twenty. The house number is five-four-zero-nine. Some farmer called in about a bunch of people with fancy looking vans prowling around his fields. He says if we don't get him off his land, he will, with a rifle_." 

"Ten-four. I'm on my way," Tyler said, putting back the radio. Luckily he was already close to the scene, and within a few minutes, he was there. Once again, he picked up the radio and pressed the call button, "This is Unit One. Ten-twenty-three," he said, stating he had arrived at the scene through the police scanner code.

"_Ten-four, Unit One_," responded the dispatcher. Tyler exited the vehicle and noticed several white vans with various antennae and satellite dishes attached to their roofs. He noticed a little black symbol on the sides of the vans that resembled a strange, metallic mask with black eyes. He spotted a few people in lab coats and using some weird mechanical instruments. Tyler was pretty sure one of them was using some kind of Geiger meter, which was making electronic clicking noises. One of the scientist-looking people looked sternly at Tyler as he approached.

"Sir, if you could please, leave," he started, "We would appreciate there not being any contamination."

"Actually, you need to leave," Tyler said, flashing his badge, "You're trespassing on private property. Now, if you don't leave, I'll have to arrest you."

The scientist seemed upset; his eyes widened and were magnified by his thick glasses, "Do you have any idea what the scientific implications could be if our theories on some of the evidence we have found here are true?"

"No, I don't. But if you don't get moving in five minutes, I'm bringing in other officers and you'll be spending a night or two in the county jail," replied Tyler.

"What if we asked permission from the person who owns this land?" asked the scientist.

"Well, then it's okay, but we got a call saying he was going to use a shotgun on you if you didn't get out of here. So I'd say it'd be best if you left," Tyler smugly responded.

The scientist clenched his fist until his already pale knuckles were even paler and his face grew red. "Fine! But you can't keep us away for long!" he exclaimed. Then he huffed and collected his people and they moved on.

*  *  *

The Yautja watched a group of the native bipeds using small, mechanical instruments in a place he had been hours before. The machines made all kinds of electronic bleeps and clicks that were distorted quite a bit in the alien's own ears, and some of them put out electric fields that were visible in his helmet's many modes of vision. 

Once again, the law enforcement biped appeared, and once again, he was unarmed. But the Yautja was glad of this; for then he could wait for an opportunity to hunt down the indigenous biped while it was alone. He breathed in with a clicking sound, as all of his species did, and he turned away as the group of bipeds got into their primitive combustion engine vehicles and went away, leaving a trail of hot carbon monoxide in their wake. 

                                                                   *  *  *

T.B. Walker burst into Tyler's office with a red, angry looking face. "Why did you make my people leave that site? There could have been important readings there!" The man said, he seemed quite intimidating when he was angry, because he was very close to Tyler's own six-foot-seven-inches

"Because," Tyler started calmly, he was reclined on his chair and his hands behind his head in a cool, collected manner, "Your people were breaking the law and I was completely within regulations by making them leave. Hell, I could have already had you behind bars for barging into my house like you did."

Walker's face became even redder, but suddenly he cooled down and took some deep breaths, "Forgive me, Sheriff." But then he suddenly smirked, as if a wonderful idea had popped into his head. "But you know, Sheriff, my people found some potentially dangerous radiation on that property."

Tyler perked up at this.

"But you know," Walker continued, "My people can clean it up, but we need access to the property and the residents should evacuate."

Tyler looked at Walker with contempt, "You're a clever son of a bitch."

"I know."  
  



	10. Chapter X

**Chapter X**

Tyler calmly took a temporary eviction notice to the owners of the property that Walker so insisted upon studying. The old man was actually quite agreeable, not wanting to put himself or his wife at risk. They had packed up and left within a few hours and the scientists quickly moved in like vultures on a dead cow.

Tyler was pissed that Walker had outwitted him in the laws of his town. To Tyler it really was _his_ town, even though he had spent the last couple decades in the semi-bustling yet still crime-ridden streets of Wichita, he _had_ grown up there. And now two unwanted guests were encroaching upon it. An egotistical scientist and something that to Tyler was still a crazed serial killer and not a monster until proven otherwise. Walker could be dealt with easily, but the thing killing cattle and people was another story. Tyler was definitely beginning to lean more towards Walker's explanation of this killer being an alien hunter than just a crazed hillbilly because of what other people had seen and what he had seen, but except for May and James, he would stick with the potential serial killer story, and only if that person knew that Pete's death was no accident.

*  *  *

The Yautja observed the bipeds, which he had learned through his ship's database were called _Pyode Amedha_, which meant "Soft Meat",by other tribes. 

Apparently, they had picked up on the radiation trail left by his landing of the small _Ner'uda _class shuttle he had piloted down and left several miles away. He well could have brought down a larger, more comfortable ship, but being as the area he was hunting in was a large plain, it would have been much more difficult to conceal. 

He watched as several of the _Pyode Amedha_ scurried around the some field with electronic instruments that created small clicking and static. The heat in this area, produced by the sun, the season, and the harvesting of an indigenous grain that tended to give off heat when cut, gave his thermal vision a fairly yellowish green tint all around while the bipeds gave off their normal yellow, orange and red silhouettes. He breathed deeply, feeling his throat produce its normal clicking sounds that were automatic to a Yautja's breathing. The air was very dry, other hunters of his race had made a note that this particular region of this particular continent tended to be very dry in the summer months, and had no true rainy season. Another problem for all the Yautja who hunted on the planet was the natural atmosphere as well as the pollution caused by the_ Pyode Amedha_. On the Yautja home world, the atmosphere contained one percent more oxygen and four percent more nitrogen, but this planet at least was adaptable. The Yautja's hunting mask also helped him along because of the built in respirator that enabled him to perform as if he was at home.  

Despite his uncomfortable conditions on the planet, he looked on as the law enforcement biped appeared once again and conversed with others of his species, and then left. The Yautja decided that he would be the last trophy to claim before leaving this planet, so as the satisfaction would be greater. While the others in his tribe may not fully realize his reasons for wanting that particular biped simply because he was hunting solo, he knew he'd have the head of another hunter before he left. 

*  *  *

That night, Joe Tyler's son, Michael was in the car with his newfound girl, Elizabeth. They had both decided to park at the end of Lady Greyhound Road, named for a very eccentric old woman who once lived in the area and raised greyhounds, because no one was generally around there and was a typical spot for teens to go when they wanted privacy. The radio of the car was turned to a classic rock station that broadcasted out of nearby Manhattan, the college town. 

Elizabeth leaned in on his shoulder and he held her hand with his fingers intertwined with hers as the first notes of the song "She's Got A Way" by Billy Joel came on with a smooth piano. They inched closer and began to kiss tenderly.

"_She's got a way about her…Mmm mmm…I don't know what it is…But I know that I can't live without her…_" sang Billy Joel over the radio as the younger Tyler held the girl.

_CRASH_.

*  *  *

The Yautja cursed himself; if he had one downfall, it was his weight. He often found himself on weak branches that broke under his weight. It had already happened several times since he arrived.

*  *  *

Michael looked up toward where the sound had come from. "What was that?" he asked as Elizabeth gently pulled him down toward the seat. 

"Ignore it," she said as she ran her hand over his cheek.

"_She's got a way of pleasin' … Mmm mmm … I don't know what it is… But there doesn't have to be a reason, anyway_," Joel continued as the events unfolded. 

*  *  *

The Yautja noted that high amounts of vapor were building inside the primitive _Pyode Amedha_ vehicle. The occupants seemed to be engaged in some kind of mating ritual. He noted that it was nowhere near as violent as Yautja mating.

*  *  *

"_She comes to me when I'm feeling down…Inspires me, without a sound, she touches me…And I get turned around_," continued the song as it got to the midsection. Elizabeth took hold of Michael's shirt and began lifting it up.

*  *  *

The Yautja felt embarrassed to be witness to this. On his planet, it was quite improper for another party to be present during the mating rituals; privacy was key. He turned and began walking away when suddenly his thermal vision picked up a small animal moving towards him. He switched to a vision in which he saw in the ten to the negative seventh area of wavelength, or in simpler terms, he saw like humans see. It was a small rodent-like creature with dark bands about its eyes and a ringed tail. Saliva was foaming at its mouth and it suddenly lunged for the Yautja's leg, biting deep into his flesh, thrashing about, and causing his luminescent, phosphorus-based blood to leak out. He howled in pain and quickly dispatched the creature with his shoulder cannon. 

*  *  *

The next verse came up; "_She's got a way of showing… mmm mmm…How I make her feel…And I find the strength to keep on goin' _".

_ROOOOAAAR_.

The two teens parted quickly and looked around with wide eyes. "What the hell was that?" Elizabeth asked Michael. 

"I don't know. It didn't sound like any animal I've ever heard before," the young man responded. He reached down under the driver's seat and felt around, and pulled out a six-shot revolver. "My dad keeps this in here just in case of emergencies. There's ammo under the passenger seat. Could you get it for me?"

Elizabeth reached under and found a box of bullets and handed them to Michael. He quickly loaded six shots into the gun. "Stay here, I'll be back."

He exited the vehicle and raised the gun, but his hand wavered and it was clear to Elizabeth that he was as afraid as she was.

*  *  *

The Yautja saw the young male biped coming in his direction with a small firearm. He neither wanted to claim the adolescent as a trophy nor be attacked while he was injured. So he simply limped off into the brush and disappeared from sight, cursing himself for not having his cloaking device on and allowing the animal to see him.

*  *  *

Michael Tyler picked up his cell phone and dialed his home number after he got back in the car. After the lines were connected, he heard a couple of rings and then his father's voice ask "Hello?"

"Dad," the younger Tyler started, "Something really weird just happened at Lady Greyhound Road…"


	11. Chapter XI

**Chapter XI**

"Don't ask questions," Joe Tyler told his wife and son as he loaded their suitcases into the back of his wife's, Sandy Tyler's, SUV, "I just have a bad feeling about something and I don't want you near me until I'm sure it's past."

Sandy looked sternly at her husband, "I don't like this. What's going on?"

Tyler looked deeply into his wife's eyes and took her hand, "Please," he said softly, "I don't want anything to happen to you."

Sandy changed her complexion to a loving smile and nodded, "Okay, Joe, okay." 

He kissed her gently and then stood back as she got into the SUV and started it up. He waved slowly as she backed out of the driveway and headed out.

Tyler lingered outside, shielding his eyes from the Kansas midday sun, as the black sport utility vehicle drove out of sight, with his family inside. He knew he couldn't risk his family being hurt by whatever this thing was. He had told them to go to Sandy's parent's house until he said it was all right. Luckily enough, Sandy finally gave in and Tyler's son, Michael, didn't have any objections after his encounter.

Tyler made his way back in to his home and sat in his favorite chair in the living room for a couple of minutes. Right after turning on the television to a Kansas City Chiefs game, the phone rang. Tyler tiredly got up, his body was aching from the lack of sleep he had had the past few nights. The phone had rung three times by the time he got to it and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" he asked.

"Hello, Sheriff," said the voice of T. B. Walker, "Very noble thing of you to try and get your family out of harms way."

"Walker," began Tyler, "How the hell do you know about that?"

"I wouldn't be doing my job very well if I didn't keep tabs on those important to my cause," replied the eccentric New Englander. Walker had proven himself to be a clever and stubborn who was seemingly obsessed with finding this "Predator" of his. 

"I do not tolerate my privacy being intruded upon by you and your people," began Tyler, "I swear, if I had proof of you doing that, I would have you cut down in court as soon as I could."

Walker simply began to chuckle, "No need to get offended friend. I simply wanted to know what you had been telling people."

"I haven't been saying anything except for when you barged into my home a few days ago," replied Tyler, angrily. 

"I realize that," Walker said. Tyler could tell he was smiling, "And I must commend you for that."

"Thank you," Tyler answered with contempt. With that, he hung up the receiver.

The city-cop-turned-small-town-sheriff sat and pondered the events he had experienced in the past week or so. Two people had died, a child hospitalized from shock, cattle were found dead, the green, glowing liquid he had found when he went to look around on Lady Greyhound road, and a lunatic chasing aliens had come to town with scientists. These thoughts lulled him to sleep.

*  *  *

The Yautja encroached upon the _Pyode Amedha _dwelling just after nightfall; he grew tired of sulking about the outskirts of their community. He came across this particular building with the notice of the large amount of primitive projectile weapons that the _Pyode Amedha_ used. 

One of the native bipeds sat asleep inside with some form of electronic projector playing in front of him. One of the projectile weapons sat across his lap. Another one sat polishing another weapon while yet another sat and bottled a white powder and put the bottles into boxes. He then proceeded to open another box that was revealed to have small strips of a green paper that had markings all over it. 

The Yautja leaned in close the glass window that he was peering at the _Pyode Amedha_ through. Much to his surprise, a small canine began barking at him through the window. The bipeds suddenly scurried up to their feet and pointed their weapons at the window, but could not see the Yautja because he had activated his cloaking device.

Now was the time to claim some trophies, the visiting alien decided, and made his move. After ejecting his wrist blades, he quickly broke the window before him and jumped into the building. The _Pyode Amedha_ were quickly frightened and began firing their weapons into the area of the window. One of the stray projectiles lodged itself into the creature's shoulder. After letting out a small cry of pain, the Yautja lunged for the three bipeds and quickly dispatched them.

The first he used his wrist blades to cut open his chest. The biped's red, iron-based blood pooled on the floor as its life quickly faded.

The second biped was subjected to the Yautja's spear gun. The spear itself packed so much force that when its tip hit the biped's head; it tore away the biped's head and stuck it to the wall after going through the skull. A mistake, on the Yautja's part; he had meant to hit the native in the chest so that the skull could still be claimed as a trophy, but now it was likely to be useless due to being crushed. 

The third, which had been bottling the white powder, threw the box full of the green paper at the Yautja right before the Yautja's shoulder cannon blew his chest apart. 

After the carnage was over, the canine which had alerted the bipeds to the Yautja's presence, lie whimpering in a corner while the alien claimed the heads and spines of the first and third bipeds, while he determined the second would be useless and left it. 

He smirked at his new trophies as he left the building, in order to heal his wound.

*  *  *

When the call came to Tyler this time, he was finishing up watching a movie that had come on HBO. "What's wrong now?" he asked after seeing on his just installed Caller ID that it was the police department calling him.

"Boss," said the voice of Deputy Willis, "We were about to make a bust on a suspected crack house when we got a call that someone already got them."

"Where?" Tyler asked.

*  *  *

Tyler arrived on the scene of a bloody massacre. When he first arrived in the house, the first thing that him was the smell of massive amounts of blood. Second was the sight of the blood, which was literally all over. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, and even the furniture were at the very least spotted with dark red. 

Then the sight of the three mutilated bodies made Tyler fight back the urge to vomit.

He sighed, "I don't think we can keep this from our public…"


	12. Chapter XII

**Chapter XII**

More and more calls came in to the phones of the house of Joseph Tyler as the next day progressed. "Is somebody a murderer?" asked one frightened elderly women, "I was told Pete Jacobson didn't die of a heart attack, but he was murdered!"

After this call, Tyler unplugged his telephone lines and simply turned on the TV. Much to the exhausted sheriff's dismay, the first thing he saw was a news report by the NBC station out of Topeka talking about the brutal killings. To make matters worse, the state police were coming around town poking their noses about as much as T.B. Walker's people had been doing. 

_My peaceful little town's getting over run_, Tyler thought as he threw himself down upon the couch in his living room. _And I thought the stuff I saw in the city was bad…_

The frustration was getting to him, and he needed escape. It had been a year, but the sheriff got into his truck and drove to the liquor store that was right on the edge of town, so that there wouldn't be many people who would spot him. He entered the small store, and immediately saw the hundreds and hundreds of bottles lining the walls. The owner caught sight of him immediately, and being as he owned the shop, he knew Tyler well due to Tyler previous habits. 

"Joe! Haven't seen you in here for a while. What can I do for you today, Sheriff?" asked the owner. He was bald, but had a very bushy black mustache to make up for it. Jim was the only name Tyler could remember to call him. A look of curiosity befell Jim, "Say, what's going on with all these deaths?"

"We're looking into it, Jim," Tyler responded, "Just sit tight, everything will clear out."

"So, what would you like?" Jim asked.

"The biggest bottle of Daniels you've got," Tyler responded. "And some rum too."

"Having a party?"

"Yeah," started Tyler, "Something like that."

Jim smiled and picked up a clear glass bottle of Jack Daniels, the label read eighty ounces, as well as a thirty-two ounce bottle of rum. "I can throw in some free soda to go with that rum."

"Yeah sure," he said, "Give me a Pepsi."

The shopkeeper went back into the back room, opened a fridge and pulled out a three-liter bottle of Pepsi. "That'll be forty dollars and ninety-two cents."

Tyler handed Jim a credit card and took his drinks back to the truck and made back for home. On arrival at his house, he got some glasses, poured some drinks and sat down in his favorite chair. After a few glasses of Jack Daniels, he began laughing at himself. "Aliens? Right, they're only in movies…" he blurted out. "Not here in Kansas, hunting people…they only live in space and burst out of peoples' chests. Or need to make a collect call…No aliens here, no Surry-Bob." 

*  *  *

Tyler awoke the next morning with the now half empty bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand and saw the rum had about a third of it missing. His head pounded and his vision was blurred. He noticed a figure in his window, staring at him. He couldn't quite make out what the figure was, but it was tall and had long hair. The skin looked dark, but he couldn't quite make it out. But when he approached the window, the figure just disappeared.

*  *  *

The Yautja decided it was still not time to get his prize. It appeared to be disoriented or intoxicated, hardly a worthy hunt. Once the prey had recovered, he would take it. So, in order to calm his need for blood, he set off for the settlement. He had once again claimed a skull of a native biped for his trophy room. The previous night he found another law enforcement biped that was armed and ready for battle. He quickly dispatched the biped.

*  *  *

After a knock on his door, Tyler opened it to see T.B. Walker with May Peterson and James Larry. James immediately saw Tyler's condition and took him over to his chair. "Joe?" he asked, "You with us?"

Tyler groaned aloud.

"I take it you've heard the news?" asked Walker, unemotionally.

"What news?" Tyler asked.

"The mayor of your quaint little town has declared that due to the violent nature of the crimes. He revealed that Pete Jacobson had, in fact, been murdered, and that the three cocaine dealers and that Deputy Willis had been killed in the same manner. It was the belief of the police department that there was in fact a serial killer in the area that seemed to be killing those with weapons. But the progression of the killings from one spot to another was very erratic and that it would be impossible to guess where the killer would strike next. The citizens had been urged to stay in their homes, and allow the police to find this killer. It was his belief that action needed to be taken, and the rest of the city held the same opinion. And to top the matter, you have been relieved of duty due to negligence," Walker explained. "He has no idea what he's doing."

"Willis? Dead?" he began. "Relieved of duty? Dammit! Somebody has to get this thing!" He slammed his fist on to his knee, but could not feel any pain due to his being extremely numb.

"So," started Walker, quite amused, "You've accepted that what we're dealing with us not of this world?" 

"In all my years," began Tyler, speaking was a labor to him and his "S's" were slightly slurred because of his hangover, "I have _never_ seen such atrocities as what's happened to the people that this thing has killed. Your insane theory makes the most sense in a world of insanity."

"Then let's catch ourselves a critter," Walker smiled.


	13. Chapter XIII

**Chapter XIII**

"So," began Walker, looking out the passenger window of Tyler's truck, "Would you like me to tell you what we've found so far?"

Tyler raised his eyebrow and took a look at his new ally, "What have you found by looking at a few tracks?"

"You'd be surprised," Walker responded.

"What do you mean?" asked May Peterson from the back of the cab.

"There are more than just tracks. Joe," Walker started, "Do you remember seeing anything out of the ordinary when you went to Lady Greyhound Road?"

"How do you…" Tyler questioned, but soon stopped himself because he knew he didn't need to be surprised. He stopped to think for a moment, keeping his eyes on Highway 15, which lied before him. "Come to think of it," he started with a sudden realization, "I remember there being an odd green liquid in the brush. It glowed. I figured it was just a burst open glow-stick."

"A glow-stick? That's not what it was, my friend," laughed Walker.

He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Are either of you at all familiar with microbiology?" he asked May and James Larry, who was next to May.

"Umm, a little," she replied.

"Yeah," added Larry.

"Well," Walker smiled, "Take a look at this." He handed them the paper. 

She unfolded it and took a long look and Tyler then noticed her eyes open wide in the rear-view mirror. "Oh my god…is this blood?"

"That's what we concluded," Walker began.

"But, it's structure, the way it's laid out," Larry said, "There're so many white blood cells…and the structure, of these hemoglobin. No, these aren't even hemoglobin… is… this Phosphorous-based?" 

"That's also what we concluded," smiled Walker.

"What does that mean?" asked Tyler.

"It means that this is a very strange creature," replied Walker. "The high amount of white blood cells means it's very resilient to disease. And the fact that there was so much of the blood means it was bigger than some insect. Nothing on Earth, certain not in Kansas, has phosphorus based blood and is this big."

"Is this the same thing that's making the weird foot prints and breaking branches?" Tyler asked.

"Probably. It may have underestimated the strength of the branches because of the dryness as of late," responded Walker. We think it's trying to stay off the ground as much as possible."

"Less foot prints," stated Larry.

"Exactly. It's smart."

"What about that blue flash that Mary Cooper saw the night Blake's tractor exploded?" asked May. "Joe, you said that it apparently came from the trees."

"Some kind of, I don't know…an energy weapon? Like in Star Trek?" asked Tyler

"Most likely. We have no idea how it works, but it's likely very powerful."

"I'll say, it blew apart a John Deere like a firecracker," joked Larry.

Tyler just shook his head as he looked onto the road ahead.

"So, we're dealing with a large creature, with phosphorus based blood, and has advanced technology?" asked May

"Right," said Walker. He paused and looked out at the dark clouds brewing to the west. "Looks like we're going to have a storm tonight."

Tyler nodded, "Forecaster says it's going to be a helluva storm."

"I concur," added Walker

*  *  *

They drove about the countryside, listening to the police scanner and also keeping an eye out for any strange activity. 

Before they started their patrol, however, they had loaded up on some weapons that had been in Tyler's home. A twelve-gauge shotgun, a standard, police issue Beretta, and a .22 caliber rifle with a scope. Tyler noticed the rifle and the shotgun in the rear view mirror, sitting behind the back passenger's seat. The Beretta was in the holster that Tyler had picked up. He fingered it lightly with his finger, openly realizing he was breaking a traffic law, but couldn't help it. He was very much hoping he wouldn't have to use the thing.

Suddenly, Walker's cell phone began ringing. He quickly picked it out of his pocket and answered with a very blunt, "What?"

He listened for a few seconds and suddenly, his eyes widened.

"What is it?" May inquired from behind.

"Quiet," Walker told her sternly.

He listened intently for a few minutes, jotting down a few words on a notepad he had pulled out with a fancy looking pen.

He hung up the phone and said, "Head for the junction between Highway 15 and West Cherokee road."

"Alright," said Tyler without question. "What's going on?"

Walker smiled slyly.

*  *  *

Following the directions Walker gave him, Tyler pulled into a field right in front of a large area of trees. He noticed one of Walker's vans was there, but empty. 

Walker pointed into the woods and began walking forward. Suddenly, a man in what looked like a radioactivity blocking suit, came out into the clearing to talk to Walker.

"We have our proof, sir," he said, taking off the his mask and revealing himself to be the same scientist with giant, thick glasses that Tyler had booted off of private property earlier in the month. 

Walker clapped his hands together triumphantly. "Let's take a look. Any hazards we should know about?"

"No sir," said the scientist, "Perfectly safe for humans, though the air may feel a little heavy for you."

Walker looked back at the three Kansans, "Then let us explore the unknown."

Larry laughed, "Where only a few men have gone before."

Tyler chuckled, and was glad to know that someone was keeping a jesting feeling despite the knowledge that they were about to go onto an alien spacecraft. 

They entered a small clearing where all the trees had been blown away and a large, sleek object sat in the middle with an odd resemblance to a beetle. It was separated in two, conjoined shells that made the odd ship. It was a greenish-gray in color and had things jutting from the side that looked as though they were thrusters. A door was open on the side and a ramp was extended down onto the ground.

"Holy mother of God…how is it that the military didn't already find this?" asked Tyler as they entered the outskirts of the woods.

"Not sure," Walker started, "But their loss is our gain."

"I suppose so," said Tyler.

"I wouldn't be surprised if our activities here are noticed soon… And with the killing spree," said Walker.

Suddenly, a call came into the scanner, which Tyler had taken with him. Another murder victim was found in town, head missing and all. The National Guard was being called in and all of town was under house arrest.   
            "Well," Walker chuckled, "It may be sooner than we thought. Helicopters will likely be searching the area for anyone not in their homes."

"What're we going to do about this thing?" Tyler asked, pointing at the alien spacecraft before him. 

"Well, we are pretty sure that the Predators have some kind of radar blocking device. It's basically stealth," Walker started, "If we can somehow conceal it from visual sight, we may yet keep it out of the military's hands."

"What do you plan to do about this thing's owner?" asked May, fingering the cold metal sides of the ship.

"Hopefully, he will realize we've found his ship and he will come to us," smiled Walker. 

He then walked forward into the craft, and the rest followed.

Tyler noticed a very Frank Lloyd Wright-like architecture in the ship. He found it oddly like a cave. A gentle mist hung about the floor, only reaching up to around his waist. He immediately noticed a heavy feeling in the air, much as the scientist has warned. He took deeper breaths to compensate

Walker noticed Tyler's breathing, "It's the nitrogen. I'm going to guess that there's about four percent more of it in here than in our atmosphere."

Tyler nodded and then noticed a small alcove to his left. In it was several bizarre looking skulls. One was human-like, but with sharp teeth and large ridges on the forehead. Near that skull were several human skulls and spines; Tyler was sure of whom they were. "Could somebody get these? They don't deserve to be displayed as trophies."

*  *  *

The Yautja approached his ship, having made haste to get there after the alarm klaxons went off in his helmet, alerting him to intruders on his ship. Several of the _Pyode Amedha_ were outside and he knew several more were inside. He knew he would hunt well that night


	14. Chapter XIV

Author's note: I'm REALLY sorry for the long delay and how short this chapter is. I've been really distracted and this was all I could muster because I've been having writer's block. Sorry.__

**Chapter XIV**

Tyler stooped down, fingering one of the alien skulls in the trophy room gently. "I have to say," he said to Walker, "Now I don't think you're crazy."

Walker chuckled heartily, "I guess being inside an alien spacecraft can change anyone's mind."

"What are you going to do with this thing?" asked Dr. James Larry as he looked about the room in awe.

"I hope to be able to get it to one of my overseas laboratories without having any 'interruptions' from the government," the tycoon replied. 

"So we'd need to keep 'hush hush', huh?" asked May Peterson.

"If you wouldn't mind. As terrible as it may sound, I have ways of keeping people quiet."

And suddenly, as if to interrupt his subtle threat, a scream pierced into the ship through the hatch to the outside as a bright blue flash accompanied it. It was a man's scream, as if he had ran into sudden agony. May quivered with fear.

"It's here," Walker said calmly. He reached down to the back of his leg where a pistol was concealed in an ankle holster. 

Tyler suddenly realized he had not picked up any of his weapons when they got out of the truck. 

Walker suddenly smiled maniacally, "Looks like I'll get a body too."

Tyler suddenly feared for his life after seeing the sudden expression on Walker's face.

Rain began to patter down outside as a huge crack of thunder resonated throughout the alien trophy room.

"I'll distract it while you three go to the truck and get the gun," Walker told the others. "We'll corner it like a pride of lions and take it down."

Tyler didn't like the idea one bit. He looked nervously towards May and Larry, who seemed to return his sentiments.

Walker walked slowly towards the hatch and motioned for the others to follow him, which they did, albeit cautiously and fearful. Water was cascading down in front of them on the hatch as the rain became harder.  

Suddenly, Walker fired a shot out of the hatch into the trees outside. "You want me?" he asked the raining emptiness.

Then, as if in answer, a strangely ornate spear impacted the hull just next to the hatch. Rain ran across the spear, which had fallen to the ground on impact.

Tyler, Larry and May all jumped in surprise, but Walker kept on going. "Get ready to make for the truck," he said. Then, in a short burst of speed, he went into the thundering abyss outside. "RUN!" he yelled to the others.

As if they were soldiers obeying a general, the three bolted outside and through the clearing where the ship was. Suddenly, a blue flash lit of the area as if it were lightning and hit the ground near their feet, causing a spray of sparks that were quickly extinguished in the heavy rain.

May screamed and stumbled, but Larry caught her arms and pulled her along. 

Walker yelled into the trees with fury. "Come for me! I have the weapon! Scan for yourself!"

*  *  *

"Come for me!" were the words the Yautja really heard. Any hunter, no matter what language he spoke, would recognize the tone of a challenge. He quickly set his sights on the challenger. It was a _Pyode Amedha_ that was waving about one of their primitive combustion-driven projectile hand weapons. But he was fair game, the creature was armed and not a pup. But he was letting his true trophy: the law-enforcement biped, get away. 

This was acceptable however. He would track his prize and lure it to where he wanted… A place in their settlement he had already chosen.

*  *  *

Terrance Bartholomew Walker was never a very religious man, but as he watched Joseph Tyler, Dr. James Larry and Dr. May Peterson run away as he stayed to confront the thing he had been seeking for the last part of his life, he found himself reciting the Shepard's Prayer.

His body quaked with fear and the cold wetness of the rain that was battering his skin. He could barely see, but he still kept an eye out for any movement around him. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, but as if he was in a trance, he did not notice the forces of nature about him. 

He hoped that the other three would escape and manage to get to safety at the least. This vain attempt would at least save their lives.

Walker, a man who had spent millions on tracking down an alien life form, was fully aware that he was most likely about to be killed by one. He suddenly found himself regretting the things he had done in life. Brutally interrogating witnesses, having those who threatened to reveal any of his illegal activities "kept quiet", and the complete neglect of those he loved. He realized how terrible a person he had become in his quest to prove that these alien hunters existed.

But those thoughts ended as soon as they began, because suddenly, a piercing pain ripped through his back as two blades cut into around his spinal cord.

He looked up as he fell to his knees. The very last thing Terrance Bartholomew Walker would see was a seven-foot-tall bipedal creature; that wore a mask with glowing green eyes. 

*  *  *

Tyler started up his truck knowing that Walker had given his life for them, for in his mind he knew no one could survive against that thing.


	15. Chapter XV

**Chapter XV**

The Yautja was fast, but when he saw his prey escaping in a hurry in one of the _Pyode Amedha_s' combustion-engine ground vehicles, he knew he needed something fast. He finished tearing out the skull and spine of his latest prey as he made way to the bay of his ship.

Tyler knew he needed something fast to escape this thing. He decided that the best thing to do would be to go back into town and hope the National Guardsmen who were imposing the martial law because of the rampant killings would be of help. And if they didn't help, then at least he knew the area of the town.

He didn't care about speed limits. He saw the speedometer read ninety-five miles per hour, which was about top speed for his Dodge Ram.

This thing was a hunter, and Tyler knew that. But he was a hunter himself, and he wouldn't go down without a fight.

His foot was an anvil on the accelerator, trying to force every inch of speed out of the truck.

Larry and May kept a close watch out the rear and side windows, just in case they found themselves in pursuit.

They all were breathing heavy after running from the ship while Walker distracted the creature. That was the only sound in the cab besides the monotone of the engine, the pattering of the rain, and the thunder from the storm.

"I can't believe," said May while breathing heavily, "He gave his life for us."

Larry spoke next, "He did what was best for all of us… The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the one."

Tyler nodded, and on a whim looked out his rear view mirror. A strange glint appeared, and seemed to be approaching.

"What is that behind us?" Tyler asked his companions.

May stared hard out the rear windshield. "I'm not sure," she said, "Hold on…"

"Whatever it is," began Larry, "It's coming fast."

Tyler's gut instincts suddenly spoke for him. "I think our alien has his own form of transit."

As if in response to his statement, a strange transmission came over his radio. It sounded like a twisted laughter, but in ways had a cohesion that made it sound like a language. Then suddenly, something recognizable came over the radio.

"_Freeze_," said Tyler's voice in a strange, distorted manner.

"What the hell was that?" screeched May.

Tyler suddenly had a realization, "The pot smokers!"

"What?" asked Larry.

"It must have been there when I stopped a bunch of teens smoking K-Weed. Something scared them all pretty badly… It's imitating me," Tyler thought aloud.

Suddenly, the glint behind them rushed up in an incredible burst of speed. Tyler looked out to his right side to see a large bipedal creature upon some kind of vehicle. It resembled a motorcycle in ways, except it hovered four feet about the ground. It had handlebars very similar to a bicycle or motorcycle, strange green and red markings on the side, resembling tally marks as if it were a fighter jet, grooves for two more creatures to sit behind the pilot, with back rests for each, and a large canon-looking apparatus on the front of the vehicle. A bloody human skull and spinal cord hung from the creature's side.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Tyler in surprise upon seeing the vehicle.

"Oh my god," gasped May, "Is that T.B.?"

"Let's not find out," responded Larry.

The creature slowly turned its masked head and stared straight through the window at him. The black holes on its mask, where the eyes on a man would be, suddenly flared up in a sinister bright green. The creature turned the handlebars it was gripping with its clawed hands so that the side of its hover bike bumped into the side of the Ram. 

May screamed at the sudden jolt. "Faster!" she yelled, "Faster!"

"I can't go faster!" Tyler yelled back.

"Then we'll fight!" Larry said, picking up a pistol off the floor of the cab and rolling down the back window on the right side of the truck. He leaned out and began firing at the creature. He seemed to hit it a few times, for it flinched in pain several times. It reached for one of its shoulders as a fluorescent green blood began flowing from beneath its fingers. The creature slowed its vehicle so it could regain control with one hand.

Tyler attempted to push the Ram to higher speeds, and managed to get it to about one hundred and four miles per hour. He sighed with relief as they entered the town.

"We'll stop at the courthouse and make our stand there. The whole town could probably see us there," Tyler said as the Ram plowed through several roadblocks left by the National Guard.

The Yautja applauded his adversary's cunning. He was retreating to his own territory, the place he knew best. But the Yautja was determined to capture his prey. He only assumed, as a good hunter would, that a hunter being hunted would go to its own territory to make its final stand. His mandibles rose underneath his mask in a twisted smirk and he kicked the accelerator of his hover bike as he entered the _Pyode Amedha_ settlement.

 Tyler stopped the Ram as quickly as possible outside of the courthouse, despite being pursued by an alien hunter and the National Guard. He, May and Larry broke through the doors and ran immediately for the stairs leading to inside of the clock tower. Tyler suddenly turned and looked at his companions, "Stay here, it wants me, and I doubt it'll use the door."

The reluctantly nodded and stood in place as Tyler went into the inside of the clock tower.

He opened the door with a skeleton key and found himself surrounded by metal and gears. He could see lightning flash through the glass of the four clock faces around him.

He caught his breath, for he knew the creature would be there right behind him.

BANG. BANG.

Gunshots outside. It was coming.

Suddenly something broke through the western clock face, which Tyler happened to have his back to, and pulled him outside.

The rain poured down in his eyes has he looked up to see a seven foot tall alien before him while he found himself with his back on the roof of the clock tower. Lightning struck a tree nearby as he got to his feet.

"Okay you son of a bitch!" Tyler shouted at the creature above the rain and the thunder, "I'm here! Come and get me!"

The creature stood staring down at Tyler for what seemed to be an eternity, and slowly reached up, and removed its mask, revealing its face.

It had long dreadlocks, which Tyler could with the mask on anyway, but the face was the most striking. Four mandibles with tusks at the end of each covered its mouth. There was no apparent nose, but it had nostrils. There was a row of spines running up its large forehead, going from between its two piercing, reptile-like, yellow eyes all the way to the back of its head. It then spread out its mandibles in front of its face, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth.

Upon examining his adversary's face, Tyler thought aloud while shaking his head. "You are one ugly mother-," but was suddenly cut off from a kick to his chest. The force of the kicked and the slickness of the room from the rain cause Tyler to slide down closer to the edge of the room. He scrambled to his feet, looking for balance as the creature walked slowly towards him.

Then spotlights suddenly shown on them, the National Guard was watching them, likely attempting to make a strike on the creature. Tyler's eye's quickly adjusted to the light, but it did seem the creature's had, so he took the opportunity to attack. He punched the creature in the face and then made a high kick to its stomach.

The creature stumbled, paused, and from what it looked like to Tyler, smiled. It then copied Tyler's volleys, giving him a punch in the face and then a kick to his stomach.

Then, in a sudden fury, Tyler ran forward and plowed his shoulder into the creature's stomach, and somehow knocked it off of its feet.

The wet roof caused the creature to slide on impact and it slid towards the edge, grabbing the rain gutters as its body slid off the roof. Tyler slowly approached the creature as it pawed at the roof to lift itself up.

He had no mercy for it.

Pete Jacobson.

Blake Cooper.

The drug dealers.

Terrance B. Walker.

It killed so many, and mangled their bodies for prizes.

It deserved no mercy.

So he lifted his foot and stomped on the creature's hand, causing it to loose its grip on one of its hands.

He stomped again and lost his balance.

And down it fell, and so did Tyler.

Tyler closed his eyes as he and the creature fell screeching to the ground below. He braced himself for impact, and the last thing before going into darkness was the creature being impaled upon the spear of the Native American statue to the side of the courthouse.

Tyler awoke in the Army hospital at nearby Fort Riley. A stern looking man with a lot of metals on his uniform stood near him. His vision somewhat blurry, but he could hear fine.

"Sheriff Tyler?" asked the man standing over him, "I'm General Thorton. I'd like to inform you that you did not see what you think you saw. You fell apprehending a dangerous serial killer. You saw nothing but a lunatic bent on killing. But please, do not speak of the details with anyone. Understood?"

Tyler nodded and slipped back into unconsciousness.

"Thank you for your work."

What Tyler didn't realize until later was that the legend that the Elder spoke of had come true.

Centuries ago, a star fell out of the sky. This star was a carrier for a wicked demon. He killed many brave hunters, and only hunters, and took their heads as trophies. He sometimes left their bodies out, skinless, as if drying them for jerky. It fed on the buffalo, for many were found dead. Many hunting parties went out to kill the beast; they knew they could kill it because it bled. But many of these hunting parties never returned. Their bodies were often found later when the tribe moved on to find buffalo. All who had seen the demon only saw its form, for it was not solid, but almost as clear spring water. For a year, man upon man died, until one day a young warrior decided to take vengeance for his father's death. He left at night with nothing but a hunting spear and food for himself. For a week no sign of the young warrior had been seen and all thought he was dead, but the he came back soon after a large flash and a mushroom shaped cloud. His face was cut and bruised and his spear was covered in green blood. The boy said he had tracked the demon back to its fallen star and attacked. He injured it severely and when the demon touched his gauntlet, a sound that the boy could only think of as a warning started. He ran as fast as he could. When the flash came, a great explosion of fire came and destroyed the creature and its star. The boy's name meant Man of Stone, and since then the tribe has believed it would take another man of stone to kill the demon, should it return.

The Yautja had fallen open the spear of a man of stone, and never hunted again.

The End.


End file.
